These are the kind of girls I could never stand. The ones who try to be seductive but sound more like a whining toddler. They think they are sexy but they couldn’t be more wrong. I feel like I dated a never-ending slew of them before I reconnected with Dahlia. She is nothing like those girls, and I couldn’t be happier.
My phone starts buzzing in my front pocket, setting my beer on the new coffee table, I stand up and pull it out. It’s a text from Dahlia.
I’m sorry we’re so late. Pulling in the driveway now. :)
Glancing at Xander and his over-bubbly brunette, I indicate with my chin that I’m heading toward the door. “Excuse me a minute, Dahlia’s here and I want to say hi before she hits the door.”
“Dahlia? Who’s Dahlia?” Chloe asks Xander.
Xander looks at me and answers, “The girl that has my brother *-whipped.”
I just shake my head and shoot him a dirty look. I’m not going to argue the semantics of *-whipped versus love with him, especially in front of the Valley girl.
“Aren’t I right, Loverboy?” he shouts at me as I walk away.
Opening the door, I brace my hands on the frame and watch her get out of Aerie’s car. The driveway reflectors shine upward and highlight her amazing shape. The shameless blaze in my eyes must be apparent, but I don’t care who sees it. She looks hot as hell in that little black number that Aerie must have talked her into buying.
Her dress is short, the neck is open, and her legs look a mile long with those shoes. When she turns to close the door, I have to shift a little to control myself. Her dress has no back and her blonde hair is up in one of those ponytail things so every inch of her bare skin is visible. Images of her and me alone together instantly flood my mind, and I really regret letting Bell throw this party.
Walking down the steps to meet her, I’m overwhelmed by her overall beauty. Saying hi to Aerie, I position myself right in front of Dahlia. She’s almost as tall as me in those shoes and when our eyes meet, she just looks at me, no smile, nothing, I can tell, even before her lips turn up, that she’s feeling seductive.
Her eyes seem to change color depending on her mood, and tonight her hazel eyes are almost brown. They look like a spinning whirlwind of dust clouds, and I love when they’re that color. I also love when her eyes turn goldish-green. There is an almost psychedelic twist to them. It’s as if I can see myself staring at the same raw images she sees. Her mind is like a camera, and just looking into her eyes makes any great view even better. I told once that I notice her eyes change color depending on her mood, she laughed and said, “So if you think my eyes are like a mood ring, what color are they when I’m being bitchy?” I just shook my head.
Leaning in, I inhale the sweet scent of her hair as I kiss the bare skin of her neck all the way up to her ear and softly lower my voice to an intimate level. “Hey birthday girl. You look beautiful, perfect really,” I say, pulling her hips to mine.
“Hey there yourself,” she says, placing her hands on my arms. “Sorry we’re late.”
Bending her neck, she allows me full access, and I can’t help but grin when I notice her goosebumps. Not being one to shy away from an invitation, I slowly work my way down her neck to her exposed collarbone. God, everything about her is just so sensual, and I’m so turned-on right now.
“That’s okay. If you’re late because of this dress,” I say, running my hands down the side of her body, “I definitely forgive you. You look so hot.”
“Umm . . .” she moans before saying, “Thank you,” in an extremely low and whispy tone.
Her seductive grin turns to a smile and she points to the driveway. “I thought you said a few people. This looks like way more than a few people. In fact, I’d say it looks like a party.”